


Death Takes A Bunny

by anti_ela



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-24
Updated: 2013-05-24
Packaged: 2017-12-12 19:50:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anti_ela/pseuds/anti_ela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And Dick whines about it.<br/>/<br/>It’s on the table when Dick comes home. It being that goddamn rodent, or the slutty marshmallow, or so help me god I’ll eat it if you leave it on the table one more fucking time. He doesn’t know how it got there, although he suspects it’s the usual way: Death put it there, then forgot to let it down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death Takes A Bunny

It’s on the table when Dick comes home. It being  _that goddamn rodent_ , or  _the slutty marshmallow_ , or  _so help me god I’ll eat it if you leave it on the table one more fucking time_. He doesn’t know how it got there, although he suspects it’s the usual way: Death put it there, then forgot to let it down.

The thing would break its neck if Dick didn’t take time out of his schedule to put it back in its cage. It’s a tempting thought; he often fantasizes about finding it dead. He rehearses the phrasing he’d use:  _Well, gosh, you didn’t expect anything else, did you?_

But doing the thing himself doesn’t enter his mind. He specifically doesn’t let it, though he threatens it often and loudly, for it holds value for Death.

Which is stupid.

But he won’t be the one to kill a horseman’s pet.

(Besides, the one time they had truly argued over it, he had sneered, “Isn’t a bunny rabbit a little beneath your notice?”

To which Death had replied, “Isn’t everything?”

Dick could think of nothing else to say; and so he keeps such thoughts, and every thought they lead to, tightly locked behind his teeth.)

At last, a day comes when the thing is nowhere to be found. Dick spends an hour scouring the apartment, but it’s not in the couch, behind the TV, in the aquarium, in its cage—he even checks the balcony (locked from the inside as it is), but there’s nothing there.

He sits down at the table, hands cold and tingling, and takes breath after breath as he waits for Death to come home. When things slide apart to admit new mass into the room, Dick raises his head.

“Good evening,” Death says.

“Yes.”

Death raises an eyebrow. “That was hardly an appropriate response.”

Dick clears his throat. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to know where that rabbit got off to, would you?”

“Oh, that.” Death unwinds his scarf. “It died.”

“What? What did you do to it?”

“I didn’t do anything to it. It had cancer. The cancer killed it. It is dead.” He shrugs out of his jacket and shakes it out. “I thought you didn’t like it.”

“I don’t like it! But I thought you did.”

“Oh, I did. But things die, Dick. Especially sick things. There’s no point in fussing over it.”

“So this whole was just hospice care? I had to lintroll all of my suits because you wanted to watch it die?”

“Don’t be macabre.”

“Then why was it in my house?”

Death shrugs. “It seemed like a nicer place to die than an overly-air-conditioned laboratory. They didn’t even feed the rabbits vegetables. They were these awful pellets.”

Dick opens his mouth, then closes it. After licking his lips, he says, “Help me out here.”

Death rolls his eyes as he loosens his tie. “As usual, you made it too complicated.” He bends down close to Dick’s face and continues, “I liked the rabbit;” (kiss) “I took the rabbit;” (kiss) “the rabbit died.” He pulls back a little. “Now, did you want to watch something on Netflix, or are we going to talk about this all night?”

“You have a point. It’s not really a movie date if we don’t watch a movie.”

“I thought I might. Come on, would you? It’s going to take an hour just to decide what to watch.”

As they settle in with the usual amount of elbow rearranging, Dick finds himself once more thinking about the rabbit. He leans over, taking the time to weave his arms around Death, and murmurs, “Do animals have little animal reapers?”

Death laughs and swats lightly at Dick’s hand. Dick eases up a little, and Death raises the remote. “Of course not,” he says.

Dick sets his head upon Death’s shoulder. “Do monsters?”

Death pauses, drops his hand, and turns his body fully into Dick’s. “When you die, I will be the one who reaps you. No other will guide you home, no matter how many times you are raised and killed and raised again. You and I will walk there, alone together, for as long as your essence persists.”

Dick remembers to breathe. “You gonna pick already or what?” he says, voice soft.

“I already did.”

“I meant the movie.”

Death smiles. “So did I.”


End file.
